


This is What He Does When He’s Not Being an Avenger

by LittleDisAwesome



Series: These Times Are Changing [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Musician Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, relationships, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-12-25 22:11:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18270257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDisAwesome/pseuds/LittleDisAwesome
Summary: The Greatest Sharpshooter Known to Man, Clinton Francis Barton, has a super hot boyfriend. Bucky Barnes sings for a semi-famous band, has one arm, and was once actually The Greatest Sharpshooter Known to Man. Y'know, before losing an arm to terrorists.Short pieces of fics that aren't destined to become more.





	1. That Time Clint was Naked

When Clint walked out of his bedroom - fully nude and covered in love bites - Natasha was sitting on his couch. Her arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow raised. He had promised that they were going to speak about it, and then he had fucked off to Brasil for a week after she'd brought him the dossier, and then he had avoided Natasha like the plague for two more weeks.

She was decidedly not okay with that.

It would have been nice to have the conversation when he had clothing on though. And when Bucky Barnes wasn't asleep and equally nude in his bedroom.

'In my defense, I didn't know I was into dudes,' he signed, fully resigned to the fact that he could not escape, 'and then this happened.' He motioned to his chest once he had finished what he wanted to say. She would understand.

'You didn't read the file I brought you.' She had a fantastic skill for coming across as judgmental even through sign language. He was jealous of anyone who could that because he certainly lacked the ability and he’d known how to sign since he was a kid and his father had beaten the hearing out of him. He didn’t think he deserved judgment for wanting to learn about Bucky the normal way.

He spotted Bucky's boxer briefs on the floor of the kitchen and grabbed them. Keeping his eyes locked on Natasha he tugged them up onto his own body. It felt less shameful when he wasn't rocking it with his cock out. 'I'm sleeping with him.' He told her as soon as he was adequately covered.

'Shocking, I had no idea.'

'I'm not ready to talk about it.' He told her, knowing that even though she wouldn't want to, she would respect it. There had been very few things in their relationship they simply didn't want to talk about at the time. Having boundaries was healthy. 'It's new to me too.'

'We're going to talk about it later.' He shrugged his shoulders, knowing that, eventually, he'd have to talk about it. It wasn't the right time yet. 'Are your hearing aids charged? Steve wants you to come to Germany with us today.'

He closed his eyes and tried to remember the status of his hearing aids. He'd been wearing them the night before when Bucky had shown up at his door. Bucky had been the one to remove them before they went to the bedroom. Bucky had put them on the charger. 'Yeah, Buck charged them.' Casually mentioning his burgeoning relationship was the best way to get comfortable, he thought.

Maybe.

Natasha raised an eyebrow again, her eyes moving towards the bedroom. She smirked - never a good sign - and Clint followed her gaze. There in the doorway was stood a nude Bucky Barnes, his one hand over his shoulder as though it could cover the fact that he was missing an arm. Clint felt a pang in his chest knowing that Bucky’s first instinct was to try and cover his scarring rather than his junk.

Natasha waved at him and said something Clint didn't quite catch. Probably something humiliating that would keep Bucky from ever coming back. He grabbed one of his aids and slipped it over his ear, wanting to know at least what was going on around him.

"I should head out," Bucky told him as he backed into the bedroom.

"Let me, um," Clint looked between Natasha and Bucky's retreating form and dashed towards the bedroom. He closed the door behind him and looked at Bucky. The other man had dropped onto the bed and was staring up at him.

Clint tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "I kinda thought I'd meet your friends while fully dressed," Bucky said, rubbing at the scarring on his shoulder. "She's way scarier up close. Way hotter than I expected."

Clint sat down next to him, resting a hand on Bucky's thigh, "now she's positive that you're out of my league." He could be a good romantic interest, and he could comfort Bucky. Then he could die on the way to Manhattan. He reached over and took Bucky's hand into his, carefully pulling it away from his shoulder. "You don't have to be embarrassed. Of these, or anything else."

"I know." He looked over at Clint, his eyes on their hands, "I'm just used to hiding them."

Clint pressed a palm to Bucky's palm, keeping their eyes locked, "They're just another part of you."

"Not my favorite part," Bucky shrugged his shoulders, the corners of his mouth pressing in. If they continued whatever it was that they were doing, then Clint figured they would address the scar issue. Clint had plenty of things that made him feel inadequate as well. He couldn't criticize Bucky for being self-conscious about his injury.

He wanted to say something sappy, but it would have been embarrassing. He reigned it in and gave Bucky a small smile. "They don't have to be, it's okay."

"What a charmer." Bucky took his hand back from Clint and pressed it against his ear, careful not to jostle the hearing aid.

Clint snorted, "you know, no one has ever said that about me before. Not even the ex-wives."

Bucky frowned at Clint’s words. He knew about Clint’s past romantic failures, but probably didn’t like hearing about them. Especially considering they were all women. They had never specifically addressed Clint’s fully female past, but he thought it would make sense. “I think you’re charming.”

He stood up suddenly, unable to handle the heat rising in his chest. Compliments were terrible things he would never grow used to getting. "I'll call you when I get back from doing arrow shit. You can stay here if you want.” He grabbed the first pair of jeans he saw and a random purple shirt and rushed out of the room.

\---

“My little locust.” Natasha mused as she sped down the highway. Clint frowned at her. Why did he have to be a locust of all things? "You remember the last time you didn't read my file?"

"You said he's not a Nazi." He crossed his arms over his chest. Apparently 'I'm not ready to talk about it' only went so far. She shouldn't have changed the rules without telling him.

"He's not right for you."

He shrugged his shoulders, "let me make the mistake then." 


	2. He Just Likes The Band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has a show in Manhattan but Clint is off getting shot at so he can't make it. He tries to make a romantic gesture anyway.

The sound of a neck popping made Bucky cringe, bringing him out of his thoughts. He’d missed New York while they had been on tour. Hotel beds left him sore and grouchy in a way that made him question why they even kept him in the band. His voice wasn’t that special, he thought. Too bad they wouldn’t be staying long. “Hey man.” He pulled his knees in to make space for the neck-popper. Lucas or Mark. John didn’t pop his bones, he said it would give him arthritis.

The couch dipped near his feet as the visitor dropped down onto the couch with a grunt. “What’re you still doing here?” Lucas asked, leaning his torso against Bucky’s shins.

“Didn’t want to go back to my place.” He shrugged. They’d only had a three-hour break, and it wasn’t worth it schlep all the way back to Bushwick. “Just took a nap here.”

Lucas wrapped his arms around Bucky’s legs, humming against them. “You didn’t want to grab something to eat with Clint?”

Clint was god knows where getting shot at (by Nazis, or aliens, or the corrupt police force of some country somewhere, or the bratva), but Lucas didn’t know that. Couldn’t know that. He’d just told the band that Clint was a traveling salesman, but he didn’t think they really believed him. John and Mark had on two separate occasions seen Clint fall out of windows.

“He’s out of town on business.” He opened one of his eyes to look at Lucas. Who had used his three hours to get a terrible undercut. “What the fuck did you do to your hair?”

“It looks cool.”

“Someone lied to you, bro.” At least it didn’t look like a dicktip, Bucky thought. He would have had to forcibly shave his friend’s head if that had been the case.  They couldn’t go on stage if his hair had looked that bad. “Did your niece do it for you?”

“My niece is three, Buck.” And probably could have done a better job cutting a straight line than the _professional_ Lucas had given money to in exchange for that uneven monstrosity.

“Exactly.” He leaned forward to rub his hand against the uneven cut on the side of Lucas’ head. “Let me know where you went, so I can never go there.” Chances of Bucky actually letting someone cut his hair was next to zero, but he could pretend. Even fans of his were starting to comment on the length of his hair.

Maybe Stark had a hair cutting robot. Or Clint could probably do it.

Lucas looked up at the nest on top of Bucky’s head. Being extremely critical for someone who was very close to looking like a character from Dumb & Dumber. “You’ve been wearing your hair in the same bun for a week and a half, Yakov.”

“I’ve got one arm, Lucas.” He gestured at the empty space where his left arm should have been. “Are you going to do my hair every morning for me?” Lucas had never had long hair, he had no idea how difficult it was to tie it up with one arm.

Lucas shrugged, leaning in again to rest his chin against Bucky’s knees, “if you asked, then yeah.”

Bucky closed his eye, not wanting to deal with any sort of emotion. They did their best to avoid it. It worked for them. Repressed military men and all. “Your girl coming?” He asked, thinking it was the best way to change the topic. Lisa or Leslie or… Bucky didn’t really know, she wasn’t going to last. Whatever her name was, she thought it was cool to date a musician but didn’t really like the actual dating a touring musician bit.

Mark and John dated girls like that as well.

Only Bucky had it figured out. By dating a spy, so maybe he didn’t have it figured out.

“Yeah,” Lucas mused, “she’ll be here when she gets off of work.” It was Janine, she was an accountant. Lucas had picked her up after a show, she’d been there for the opening act. Bucky gave it until the end of the tour.

Bucky nodded to himself and dropped his head onto the arm of the couch. He wanted to slaughter whomever had put Manhattan and Brooklyn in the middle of their tour. It just made him want to go home even more. It was probably for the best that Clint wasn’t in town. Leaving Clint for tour the first time had been tough. Doing it a second time would have been nigh on impossible.

At least they could video chat when he wasn’t on missions.

The door to the green room opened and Lucas sat up. Bucky felt him get up off of the couch to greet the intruder, apparently not someone they knew or he’d have stayed sitting. “Letter for-“ the man paused and Bucky opened his eye, “for, uh, Buckaroo?” His voice lifted at the end in confusion.

Fuck. Bucky knew exactly what that was and who it was from.

Bucky sat up and eased himself off of the couch, his spine popping with every motion. He’d gotten old really fast. “Yeah.” He held his hand out, doing everything in his power not to make eye contact with Lucas as a red and gold envelope was placed in his hand. This had always been a possibility.

He dropped the envelope on the table, holding it down with his palm as he tried to pry it open. Clint and Natasha were out of town so there was no one to stop this nonsense. With extreme grace he managed to liberate the paper inside.

_Barnes,_

_Send me a text if it’s okay for Pep and me to come to the show._

_TS._

He narrowed his eyes. This was extremely out of character. It was a trap. At the bottom of the page Tony Stark’s (!) number was written on the bottom.

Against his better judgment he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “So Tony Stark might be coming to the show.” He told Lucas, feigning casual in a way that even Natasha would appreciate. She’d shown him a thing or two. Apparently dating a spy came with some dangers she thought he need be aware of before choosing to go forth.

Without looking back up he sent Stark the affirmative and tossed the phone against his couch. That would certainly get them a bunch of press. Maybe the second half of their tour would have more sold out shows if people thought Iron Man was a fan of the band. Or people were going to hounding them about the fact that they knew him.

“Excuse me?”

“Tony Stark.” He looked up, taking in the way Lucas’ brows were furrowed. He wasn’t exactly a fan of Stark Industries and Clint knew this would be a disaster.  Way worse than the time Steve Rogers had shown up at practice looking for Clint. Bucky had no idea how Clint could even still be a spy. “He likes the band.”

Before Lucas could respond to that the messenger came back in and handed over another red and gold envelope. This one was at least unsealed – which meant Stark was probably outside, but it was still preferable. He pulled the page out and unfolded it.

_Barnes,_

_And Wanda._

_TS._

Bucky rolled his eyes. This was his life. He’d gone home with a cute guy from a show, fallen in love with him, and gotten sucked into Avenger’s nonsense because the cute guy was a cute spy.

“Tony Stark is most likely in the building.” He forced a smile, grabbing both envelopes before following the messenger out of the room.

Stood exactly three and a half feet from the green room door, in a jeans a dirty t-shirt was Tony Stark. Not looking in the least bit sheepish about being caught. “I would have left if you said no.” He shrugged one shoulder.

“Why the sudden interest?”

“Clint said you wouldn’t have any friends or family in the audience when he tried to get out of going to South Sudan.” He shrugged again, “Lame, for a lead singer.” And there it was.

Bucky looked over his shoulder to see the door to the green room was closed. He was not going to blow Clint’s cover because Tony Stark didn’t understand boundaries. “They don’t know.” He told Tony, hoping there were plenty of clues as to what he was talking about.

“Just a fan of the band, man.”

Bucky sighed, knowing defeat when he saw it. And, honest it was kind of Tony to bring some people for his ‘friends and family’ section since Clint couldn’t make it. He was trying. “Thank you for coming.”

“If Steve or Scott could maintain a cover for more than a minute one of them would have gone. Clint has never asked to be passed on a mission before.” He mumbled, glancing around the room as he spoke. There was a reason Stark had survived being a superhero this long. “But Steve and Scott are shitty spies.”

Bucky nodded. He could see that. Everyone knew Steve’s face – and he was kind of an idiot for a military genius – and Scott was… Scott had gotten fired from Baskin-Robbins. And hung out with a man called Luis who’d done prison time for stealing smoothie machines.

Bucky loved Luis.

“Everything’s still good?”

Tony nodded tapping his watch, “He’s made nine of the last ten check-ins. He missed one because he was eating.”

That sounded about right.

“Scott, Steve, Sam, Bruce, and Thor want to come as well.” He read the message on his watch casually. As though Bucky would think having the Avengers as his show was something completely normal. And like it wasn’t going to raise any sort of questions. “Can they?”

At least they were asking. “Yeah, sure.” They knew what was going to happen the second the lot of them showed up at one of his shows. They might start getting better venues though, and that meant better beds.

“Oh, and.” He dug into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small purple box. “Clint sent this.”

Bucky snorted and took the box from Stark. He opened it and promptly choked. A purple tungsten ring. Of course, Clint would give him something like that when he was out of town. He was going to have to ask Tony Stark to ring him. “Gonna help me put it on?” He asked, looking back up at Tony.

Tony rolled his eyes, dropping his hand from his watch. “Why can’t you-” he cut himself off, and reached out for the box. Mumbling to himself about buying a ring for a one-armed man, he took the ring out of the box. “It’s got an arrow on it.”

“Of course it does. Clint is all about branding.”

Tony slid the ring onto Bucky’s index finger – for whatever reason – and closed the box. “The singer and the carnie. It’s ridiculous.”

“Clint’s a traveling salesman. He’s in Monaco right now with a client.”

“Right, of course.”

***

“So, um, the Avengers are going to be here tonight.” Bucky announced, dropping back onto the couch. It was probably better to give some warning rather than to let the guys be surprised.

“The cool ones or like the arrow one?” John asked and Bucky instantly wanted to strangle him. The Arrow One was the coolest one. He couldn’t have suddenly strong feelings about the Avengers though. That would be suspicious. He wasn’t about to blow Clint’s life up because his friends thought Hawkeye was lame.

“Ant-Man.” He offered, knowing none of them knew who Ant-Man was, he wasn’t going to give them Giant-Man though. Because they were normal people who didn’t text Avengers. “Whichever ones Stark can round-up I guess.”

Mark furrowed his brow, crossing his arms over his chest, “How do you know Tony Stark?”

“Clint knows him somehow.” He wasn’t involved in that world, he couldn’t come up with lies on the spot. “He likes the band.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with all of my ficlet stories, I'm always open to ideas if anyone wants to read something in particular!


	3. I Was Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha admits to making a mistake.

The sound of an arrow hitting a target made Bucky smile. He didn't have to look to know it was a bullseye and that Clint was showing off. He was supposed to be teaching a class, but he wasn't sure the kids learned anything from him. The kids were never going to be able to do trick shots like their teacher.

It did make archery look cool, though.

The corner of Natasha's mouth curved upwards, and she leaned to the side to look at Clint. "He just shot a bullseye though another arrow with his feet." She rolled her eyes; she was used to this sort of behavior from Clint.

"He's been practicing that for a week." He turned around to see Clint balancing on one hand with a bow held between his toes. He was the most ridiculous person Bucky had ever met. "You should see our walls." The kids were all staring up at Clint with wide eyes, jaws dropped.

He brought his cup of coffee up to his mouth. He loved this part of Clint's job. He knew Clint did as well; regardless of what he said, Clint was a performer. He lived for attention. He would wilt without it.

And when they were at the archery range, Clint wasn't starting a war with the tracksuit mafia around their apartment. That was a considerable improvement from the norm.

When he turned back around Natasha was smirking at him. "I was wrong." She told him as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I thought you would be bad for him, but you make him better."

"Because of the pills?" He'd always assumed she'd done a background check on him and drudged up all of his problems before she'd let him date her best friend. If there had been anything terrible in his background, he was sure he'd have ended up dead in a ditch somewhere in Bolivia. It was her way of showing love. He'd seen the arrow necklace. And then never told anyone about it under threat of grievous bodily injury.

"That didn't help." Her eyes flickered towards his arm. It made sense. Clint had his hangups. If he'd looked in at their relationship, he would have had concerns as well. She shrugged her shoulders. "You didn't seem right for him. But I was wrong."

"I love him." He drained his cup of coffee. It wasn't something they had said to each other, but Clint probably knew. They lived together. They didn't sleep with other people. Clint brought trinkets home when he got shipped out. Neither of them did well with the word love anyway. "I want to spend my life with him."

She pursed her lips and peered over his shoulder to look at Clint again. "He's got a dangerous job."

"He does."

The sound of an arrow hitting a target filled the air and Natasha smiled slightly. "That means you may not get to keep him for long."

Bucky inhaled deeply. She was trying to help in her way. It was something he had Clint had talked about though. Clint put himself in grave danger every time he went to work. Bucky was learning to be okay with it. "I know. Doesn't change how I feel though."


	4. Futzing Bratva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint got himself into a turf war with the Russian mob, and Bucky has to end it.

Clinton Francis Barton, 'the greatest sharpshooter known to man,' was an infuriating man. He could hit a fly out of the air, at a hundred meters, while blindfolded. He once took an helicarrier down with one arrow. He also managed to get himself involved in a turf war with the Russian mob over a dog and an apartment building in Bed-Stuy.

"Get the fuck down, Clinton!" Bucky yelled, peeking over the overturned couch. Clint was standing dead-ass in the center of their apartment with a bow and arrow, while some idiot in a goddamn tracksuit fired at them. This was the exact behavior that cost him his hearing. And, presumably, the behavior that had turned him into a secret agent, for a stupid secret intelligence organization, that created the stupid Avengers. God, he was the worst.

Lucky barked from upstairs, but at least he stayed under cover instead of trying to get himself shot.

Clint shot an arrow at the Russian, releasing some sort of putty nonsense all over his feet. As though that was going to make the situation any better. Now the dracula couldn't turn away. "Don't worry about it, Buck." Clint turned back to grin at him. This was the sort of shit Bucky's idiot boyfriend lived for, and the sort of shit Bucky hated.

Bucky sighed and fired his gun towards the - still firing - mobster. At least Clint hung out with some reasonable people, who left guns in random places around the apartment. He couldn't shoot a bow and arrow.

"What the fuck, bro?" The dracula hadn't expected someone in the apartment firing a sensible weapon.

Bucky looked over the couch again, grinning at Clint when he saw the idiot mobster bleeding from the leg. "Can we call the police, Clinton?"

"No, the general plan is to scare them off. Then they'll futz off to wherever they came from."

"They're Russians, Barton." Three years into their relationship and Clint didn't seem to understand how ridiculous his people were. And these were worse than the usual ones. "They're not just going to fuck off."

He'd gone home with a hot guy after a bar, and then he was involved in a turf war with the shitty version of the Bratva. He was going to kill Clint.

Bucky grinned and stood up when the gunfire didn't pick back up. ' _Hello, jackass._ '

The Russian frowned at him.

' _How many times are you going to come here and lose to an idiot with a fucking bow and arrow?_ ' He asked, glancing up at Clint. who was still smiling plaintively at him. Lust building up in his eyes. Apparently, the vision of Bucky with a gun was attractive to him. ' _It's a matter of pride, man._ '

The Russian looked over at Clint and shrugged his shoulders. ' _You sleeping with him, bro?_ '

' _Yeah, bro. And I don't wear tracksuits. I'm not a fucking stereotype, unlike someone_.' He waved his gun in the general direction of the Russian. 'Y _ou can't even leave because this idiot used a putty arrow._ '

"SHIELD is on their way, Buck." Clint put his bow down and smiled. He was lucky he was cute. Because he was a complete idiot.

\--

Bucky slid his hand into Clint's back pocket and leaned against Clint's side. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you once the cops leave." He whispered, watching as some idiots from SHIELD wondered around their apartment in police uniforms. He had to have lost his mind to even want to stay with Clint.

Clint grinned, watching his coworkers mull around. "Yeah?" He slid his arm around Bucky's shoulders. "You kicked ass today, by the way."

"Clint, I had to shoot a guy because of your ridiculous disagreement with the Russians."

"And you looked great doing it."

Bucky tried to keep himself from smiling, but couldn't help himself. He had always enjoyed firing weapons, and it had been a bit like being back in the army. Even if it had just been a gunfight in Brooklyn. "Thanks, Clint. At least one of us has sense." 


	5. Lucas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An outside, and unflattering, look at Clinton Francis Barton. A vignette by Lucas van der Berg.

When Lucas had told Bucky to make himself available, to get himself out there, he had not meant end up in a partnership with the lamest Avenger. Or any Avenger. Certainly not one that was injured continuously and thrived on violence. Bucky still had panic attacks weekly and was trying - so fucking hard - to remove himself from the violence.

So, no, when Lucas had told Bucky to get laid, it hadn't been his intention that Bucky would involve himself with one of the most dangerous men in America.

And it wasn't as though Clint wasn't nice. He said his please and thank yous, he remembered Lucas' likes and dislikes. Whenever he knew Lucas would be around, he brought those biscuits from the bakery near his apartment that were fucking amazing and had sent him a get well card when Bucky'd let slip that Lucas had gotten sick on tour. But the problem with Clint was that Clint was bad for Bucky. He would disappear for weeks on end and on top of making Bucky stress about that, he made Bucky lie to his friends. As though any of them were stupid enough to think Clint was some sort of traveling salesman. Who went away without warning and showed up with broken bones. Who hung out with people like Tony Stark and at least one time Steve Rogers.

"So Luke," Clint looked up from his beer - because he was the sort of guy that sat next to his alcoholic boyfriend and drank beer - and smiled at Lucas, "got any plans for your little vacation?"

Bucky looked up at him and smiled, nothing but joy in his eyes. Lucas couldn't help but hate that a little bit, because he hated Clint a little bit.

"Just getting the nursery ready. Linda is due while we're on the next tour." That was more than enough to worry about without having to worry about the livelihood of his friends.

Clint nodded as he slid his free arm around Bucky's shoulders. At least he wasn't weird about Bucky's arm. That was one point in his favor, though it was probably the only one. "Let me know where you want me to send the baby shower gift. I'm sure Tony will send one too. Or well, Pepper. Put something stupid expensive on the registry, and that's what they'll send." He grinned, leaning in closer to Bucky. Lucas noticed that he did keep his beer in his free hand at least, instead of hovering it right under Bucky's nose.

It took all of his strength not to roll his eyes. The stupid Avengers hadn't been invited to the baby shower on purpose. The last thing he needed was more attention than the band already brought him. He'd been photographed buying tampons before Linda had gotten pregnant. Having Pepper Potts at one of his parties was a surefire way to get more attention than he wanted. People that cared about them because of Pepper Potts weren't going to buy his music.

"What are your plans, Clint?" He asked, forcing himself to look interested. Clint had infinite free time, and he wasted it on hanging out with 20-year-old girls and eating pizza.

"Katie-Kate is in town, so Bucky and I are taking her to see some musical."

"Hamilton," Bucky added because his partner didn't know the title of the most popular musical in the world. That tracked. "Kate is in from LA with Lucky." Clint's weird shared dog situation. Because he needed a 33-year-old boyfriend and a 20-year-old girlfriend.

"Excited to see it then?" Lucas asked. He had wanted to see Hamilton, but he and Linda had never been able to afford tickets.

Clint took another sip from his beer and shrugged his shoulders. "It's not really my thing, but Buck and Katie are excited."

Lucas narrowed his eyes and looked at Bucky, who seemed content to curl up closer to Clint. "What's not your thing."

Clint looked at him oddly, as though he didn't understand the question, "music, you know?" He tapped his ear as if to indicate they were defective in some way that made him not enjoy music.

Lucas frowned. No. He could not say that he knew. Instead, he simply marked it down as yet another reason to dislike Clint.

*****

"Why do you like Clint?" He finally asked when Clint was out of earshot. Thirty minutes with the man was enough to make himself consider homicide as a legitimate option. And Bucky'd made him suffer through a ninety-minute dinner. "He's so..."

Bucky sighed. He didn't even bother to look over his shoulder to see if Clint was close enough to hear. "I think he's great." He slid his hand into his back pocket. "He makes me happy."

"He doesn't like music." Of all of Clint's faults - such as being a fucking assassin - not liking music had to be the worst.

"Why would he?" Bucky frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. His brows furrowed as though Lucas had said something asinine at best.

Everyone liked music to some degree. It was universal. People had been making music from the dawn of time, before instruments, or language. Everybody liked music. Except for Bucky's boyfriend. "You make music for a living."

Bucky shrugged. "Yeah. So?"

Lucas felt like he was going insane. How had his friend been so utterly charmed by the disaster that was Clint Barton? To the point where it didn't matter that he didn't appreciate what Bucky did as a career. "How can you be with someone who doesn't like music?"

"Buddy." Bucky looked back at Clint and smiled. "Clint is deaf." He waved at his boyfriend, preening when Clint waved back at him before turning his attention back to the bar.

And, in that moment, Lucas was an asshole.

*****

"Hey, man." Clint's appearance at the grocery store came as a complete shock. Clint seemed like the sort of guy who didn't take care of business like groceries. But there he was, standing in the cereal aisle, staring at his different options. He was right in front of the Frosted Flakes, Bucky's favorite. Lucas wanted to point it out to him but chose not to say anything about cereal.

"Oh, hey." He noticed the other man wasn't wearing his hearing aids, so he made sure to make eye contact. Bucky said that was the appropriate thing to do. The last thing he wanted was for Clint to report back to Bucky that Lucas had been a dick. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Katie-Kate didn't like the food I had to offer." Clint rolled his eyes, and Lucas had to force himself not to frown. Why was Kate at Clint's apartment? His understanding was that it was a one bedroom. She had no business being there. "Bucky forced me to come out and grab the cereal she likes."

Lucas looked down and noticed a box of Fruity Pebbles in Clint's basket. He couldn't understand the relationship between the pair of them. Bucky was weirdly comfortable with it, though.

"Forgot to charge my futzin' aids." He motioned towards his ears, "Sorry man."

"So, um," he looked at the cereal again before remembering that he needed to look at Clint so the other man could read his lips, "is Kate your," he paused trying to decide what he wanted to ask, "is she your daughter?"

"God no." Clint choked on his own spit. He ran a bandaged hand through his hair, and Lucas couldn't help but wonder what dangerous nonsense he had been doing to earn that injury. "She's my protege."

"In selling vacuums?"

"Yeah. It's a pretty cutthroat business." He reached out and grabbed a box of Frosted Flakes to drop in his basket. "Gotta be a real sharpshooter to be successful."

Lucas sighed and made the executive decision to give in. "You know, we all figured it out three years ago."

"I figured." He ran his hand through his hair again. This time Lucas noticed a hole in the armpit of Clint's shirt. "Not like I really hide it. I'm just sorta supposed to, y'know, tell people I'm a salesman."

 


End file.
